RESERVOIR OF ROSES

RESERVOIR OF ROSES 

On Saturday morning, August 10, 1996, I attended a retreat which Father DiOrio a well known healing priest was giving at the Sturbridge Host Conference Center in Sturbridge, Massachusetts. This two-day event included an anointing healing service, Holy Mass, prayer and reflection. I had never been to a Father DiOrio service before. I felt an inner calling to make arrangements to be there. I don’t know all the reasons; but this was an opportunity to receive the gifts of the Holy Spirit, and to receive the spiritual gift of healing, of which I have been praying for. Although I have many physical problems, I had no desire of any physical healing for myself. I came, to let the Lord lead me: to move my spirit, to move my feet, to move my shoes; to do His will. 

This day of the retreat was fulfilling, but it was only the prelude, for tomorrow. When I made arrangements for this retreat, I did not know there was a Saturday evening session. I needed to return home for my stomach medication, and missed the evening session. As I write this, I now realize the “medication” was actually my spiritual writings, that I brought back with me, the next day. "Medication" that was spiritual “meditation” for those people, I was about to touch. These chain of events, so ordinary but yet, so extraordinary. The Lord, was already, moving my shoes. 

On Sunday August 11, there was a healing Mass with prayer and reflection. After receiving communion, I returned to my table and prayed with my eyes closed. Compassion, set in. Someone or something bumped me, and I opened my eyes. My eyes found a woman in the crowd, in a wheelchair, whom I hadn’t noticed before. She was hunched forward, her arm in a sling. My mind thought of all the infliction, disease and hurt in this room. My heart was in compassion, reaching out to them. This woman started to weep; my eyes watered also, as very, very, deep compassion, overtook my senses. 

After the Mass was over, I got up and went over to her. I knelt down on one knee and took her hand. She looked at me. I spoke no words. I looked deep into her eyes; I kissed her hand. She wept; the tears flowed; I took my other hand and put it on her shoulder to comfort her. I then placed my hand on her check, as our eyes met once again. I made the sign of the cross on her forehead, looking deeply into her eyes. I let all the Lord’s compassion within, flow from my heart, to hers. Oh, how the depth of my soul was burning for her. I was so moved, so overcome. No words; as her tears fell, she said, “Thank you.” I moved away, and went back to my table and sat down. So powerful! So powerful was this compassion. It was He who sent me there. It was He who made my shoes move, to her. So powerful, were these moments of grace. 

When there was a break between services, I left the room and went outside to my car. The woman in the wheelchair was just outside the door sitting in the sun, with a man standing next to her. Coming back inside, she beckoned to me, and I went over to her. She wanted to thank me again, for administering to her. She said the other people at her table told her, that when I looked at her, and looked into her eyes, I looked like the Lord. (I can only tell you, that I was so focused at the time, no one else was present in that room but myself, this woman, and the presence of our Lord. If indeed I looked like the Lord, then it was His eyes and His heart that were present. I could not speak any words, for words at these moments were mute, and the compassion of the Lord was speaking, not I.) 

I asked the man if they were husband and wife. He said “yes.” I asked how long they were married, he replied 34 years. I asked when their anniversary was. He told me it was the 30th of June. I said I was married 34 years also, and my anniversary, was June 9. I asked the woman if she knew that the month of June was the month of the 'rose.' She said, “No, I didn’t know that, but I want to show you this.” She proceeded to take a small written paper from her purse, about the miracle of the 'Red Rose' of Venezuela. I read what was written on the paper: “a piece of a 'Rose' (a petal) that came from the heart of Mystic Maria Esperanza De Bianchini.” Enclosed in this paper packet was a red rose petal she had gotten on her visit to Venezuela. (Maria Esperanza had a rose come out of her chest 15 times, between January 18, 1986 and August 15, 1995. This stigmata of the rose is unexplainable.) I said that this was remarkable and that now I knew why I had come here. I told her I had something for her, and to wait. I went inside to an envelope on my table with the writings that I had brought back with me, and took one out for her and returned outside. I gave her my writing, Radiance of the Red Rose. She read it and said how beautiful it was. I said, “When I wrote this, I didn’t know why or for whom; but now I know. This is for you to keep.” She said, “thank you,” and once again, looked into her purse. She took out a “rosary”; a rosary made out of red “rose” petals in the shape of small red hearts. I was astonished by all of these coincidences. But should I really be? I told her not to be disappointed, if she was not healed. Her husband's name, is John. Where I was standing to the side of her, I could not see her name tag. I said, “Your name is?” I didn’t quite hear it the first time; but it was no mistake. She said her name is, “Rosalie.” This was so incredible! This strong spiritual message of the “rose” in my life, associated with the Blessed Virgin Mary, again, is present. Of the 500 people there, I was directed, to her. The Lord called; my heart was moved, immersed with compassion and grace. I administered, to His will. 

At the anointing healing service, there were eight of us at our round table. I had my hand in my pocket, holding onto my cross and miraculous medal. I was in prayer repeating: “Lord Jesus Christ, I trust in You.” “O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.” We were asked, to put our name tags on the table in front of us. I did so, along with my cross and miraculous medal. The cross on the left, the medal on the right. We held hands, making a circle, a “halo” of prayer. We were all, at the “Edge of the Halo.” 

When Father DiOrio came near to our table, I felt this tingling in my right hand for a few seconds. The Lord’s work, had begun. When our table was to be anointed, a vase of oil was set in front of me. I, to be the first, dipped my finger into the oil and anointed the sign of the cross on my forehead. All at our table did the same. We held our hands together once again, waiting for Father DiOrio to pray over us. He moved to our table and set his hands on the head of the fourth person to my left; third person; second person; the first  first person, Nancy! He set his hands on her head in prayer. He said, “Stand up. Do you feel anything?” She stood up and said, “I don’t know.” She had a soft neck collar brace around her neck. He said, “Take off your collar,” He asked if she recently had surgery. She said “yes”. He asked once again, “Do you feel anything?” She said, “The pain is gone, but it is a little stiff. “He said, “Move your head back and forth.” She did it, and he asked if it was any better. She said, “The pain is gone, but it is still a little stiff. He then said, “We’ll work on your back now.” I could not see, because they were directly behind me, and didn’t want to turn around to interfere. He was finished with Nancy and she sat down. She, was in the process, of being healed. He moved to me, and set his hands on my head. Since I had spiritual harassment in the past, I was very apprehensive at this point, not knowing what to expect next. He prayed over me; then moved on to the next person; the next table; and the next. He was near the back of the room and put his hands over a man, over his ears, and asked him if he could hear him. He said “yes”. He asked if he had been deaf or had a problem hearing. “Yes” the man replied again. This man was healed! Father DiOrio moved on; anointing everyone in the room. Two healings; one sitting next to me out of 500 people. Very extraordinary; or is it? Had the “Edge of the Halo,” I placed on the altar been heard? Had the “Halo” of our table confirmed a healing? Extraordinary; or was it? 

I was sitting between, two “ROSEs.” And during the retreat, on the altar, overlooking the room from its vase, sat three, red “roses.” When I filled out my name tag, I put a cross under my name: a cross of “proclamation.” A cross, which walked across the room, and administered to three “ROSEs.” (The three ladies I gave my spiritual writings to, “had an association with the word ROSE in some way.”) Extraordinary? Or is it, just unexplainable! 

And of anything that happened at this retreat, what affected me the most? The woman in the wheelchair: Rosalie saying goodbye to the people at her table; weeping; weeping in tears; unhealed, as her husband wheeled her away, to go home. I wanted to speak to her, but was glued to my chair and couldn’t. The time was not right, and was reserved, for Rosalie and her husband. There will, be another time! Her face I will never, ever forget. Those weeping tears: my work unfinished; the healing unfinished; the weeping “rose” faded from my view, leaving me with “rose” petals, that wept. As I drove home in my car: the burning; the reaching out; those weeping tears of desperation, falling from her soul, crying out; crying out from within. 

After retiring for the evening on Monday as I lay on my bed waiting for sleep, I was in deep prayer, praying for “Rosalie,” the tears of compassion rolling down my face; the presence of the Lord, was burning inside my soul, 

like embers, ever so present, in my efforts of petition, for the “rose,” that weeps. 

 FILLING THE RESERVOIR 

The presence of the “rose” is sometimes subtle, like a whisper; but dramatic results occur, which at time go unnoticed. As this reservoir is being filled, I have found that the “rose” is a strong spiritual presence in my life, and that weeping tears are the element of my deepest compassion. That this reverence and peacefulness within my heart and soul, are Christ-like, and the mist of grace, is falling upon the path, of my journey. And ever since I've started each day, wiping the tears from the face of Christ, from the crucifix, which hangs on my bedroom wall, blessing myself with the sign of the cross, I have felt these tears of compassion, being drawn inward, deep within me; drawing deep within, from the Lord’s Divine Mercy. I have also felt, an inner closeness to our Blessed Mother, and have recognized the sorrow and torment she must have felt, as her Son was crucified and hung on a cross to die. And in this same element of sorrow, the self-crucifixion of aborted babies, I have felt this overwhelming compassion for our Blessed Mother, as she once again, encounters death and sorrow, for her children. A mother so sorrowful; but yet, so compassionate. And of this compassion, I am confronted with the “rose.” The “rose” which beckons me, intertwined on my journey. A journey of petals of love, that fall away, and fall onto others in compassion, is but a mirror, of the face of my soul: the face of the “rose,” weeping tears of compassionate love, filling this compassionate reservoir. Mother and Son, Son and Mother, Jesus and Mary, I love you! 

PRAYER AND BLESSING OF THE ROSE 

“Lord Jesus Christ, I do not believe, You would call me to this place, and out of 500 people, “direct” me to a “rose”; fill me with overwhelming compassion; stand me up, move my feet; and administer to a woman in a wheelchair named “Rosalie,” if not for some great purpose, or reason. Lord Jesus of Divine Mercy, if it be a miracle of Divine Healing, or of great works in accordance to Your Will, then let it be so. We ask this Lord Jesus, in Your Holy Name, Lord Jesus Christ, Our Lord and Savior. Amen.” 

Robert J. Varrick

  rjvarrick@gmail.com